Slater J. Tross, O.L.C

August 24th, 2030, 6:58 pm

As I hold my seat, the chilling metal chair under my thighs, it is finally starting to set in.

The ranking for the top ten will begin in a few moments, and I have realized that it has all come to an end. Everyone around me is buzzing; laughing and joking with each other while I await the conclusion of the ceremony with that cursed pain in my chest. It only returns when I'm out of breath, but now it has accounted for my stress. Just a reminder of why I'm here and the one who did this to me.

I will see you when the day is important, Roarke said on the day we met. Is today that day? Is it the time where my fate is chosen when he decides to see me again? Such a vague comment has left me guessing what kind of scheme he will use to save me, should he choose to.

But there will never be a day in which I put my trust in Rodney Roarke. Never.

CJ takes his place beside me and forces a grin to appear on his face. Nothing inside of me could coerce me to reciprocate, and the grin vanishes from him. I don't want to be the one to ruin his moment before he is ranked, but I can't find it in myself to be selfless right now.

"You doing okay?" He flings his arm around my shoulders, surveying my blank face as I stare at the stage. Sergeant Lee is fidgeting around with the microphone while Corporal Porter carries a small, brown box up to his level. They are preparing for the main event.

"I don't know." I lie, not removing my glare. I know exactly how I am, and I'm not okay. I don't want to put a damper on his excited mood.

He releases me and sits back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Slater. We all thought you were going to be ranked." He shakes his head, glaring at his feet. "It's some bullshit. It's unfair."

I remain silent, still watching the stage. Corporal Porter sets the box down on a table and removes its contents where she can access them to give to the top ten recruits. I'm seated several rows back, but I can see how the lights from the stage shimmer against the gold dazzle of whatever she laid out. CJ is lucky to be getting one of those.

"Hey, Slater?" He remarks out of the blue.

I turn to him, the light draining away from the stage.

"If this really is... it, I want you to know that I'm glad to have called you my friend. Some kids look at you for the person you used to be, but I don't. I see you, changed, the true you." His infamous, signature smile flashes across his face. "Thank you, Slater."

Somehow, the strength inside me is discovered, and a slight grin emerges. A soft tear escapes from the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek. "Thank you, CJ. I don't know where I would be without you."

Three echoing taps drift throughout the room and the crowd silences in an instant. Sergeant Lee approaches the mike and addresses us with his eyes. "Good evening everyone. We have made it to the end of the night, where we finally reveal those of you who will enter your class as the top ten recruits." He locks his hands behind his back. "These past two weeks have been grueling and nerve-racking for all of you, but ten of you have something else inside of you that caught our eye. Perhaps it was your leadership, your physical capabilities, or the overall brilliance that drew us to you.

"This class really is something special. Many of you, especially those who have already been ranked, possess a certain attribute that makes you unique from the rest of your peers. It was hard to choose these next ten recruits because all of you are incredible to us in some way or another. Please understand that some sacrifices had to be made in order to put this list together.

"Those selected here tonight will join a prestigious group of young men and women who were once just like you. I was once in your shoes, Sergeant, whoever you are. All the officers upstairs once had to endure this same ranking and recruitment and they have excelled in their endeavors to become the greatest of a generation. With this class, I believe that there is a future General amongst us. One of you will be bold enough to lead the Imperial Guard onto the next great journey, wherever that may take us."

Lee pulls cards out of the pocket on the inside of his jacket and scans the first name. "Without further ado, the top ten recruits of Class 30. Hold your applause until the end, please." He clears his throat and leans his face into the steel wire of the microphone. "Number ten, Maxwell White."

A shadow on the other end of the gathering room strolls to the stage. When the light from the set glares down on him, I feel my eyebrows crease over my nose. His pitch-black hair tumbles over his ears and some onto his forehead. He has an ivory complexion, glittering in the artificial lighting. The sleeves of his button-up have more than enough extra room for him to breathe in.

I sway over to CJ, watching Maxwell receive a gold pin from Porter. "That kid told me to fuck off on the first day." He turns to me and chuckles. I mean, I guess that is kinda funny.

Maxwell stands on the far right side of the stage, awaiting the rest of his classmates to join him. Lee flips to the next card and looks up. "Number nine, Dalia Biron."

Woah, Dalia made it into the top ten. I know she was a top recruit, but damn. If you had told me she would be in the top ten when I first met her with her brother Drake, I would have thought you were crazy. I wonder what tests she did well in. I think Hal told me that she's especially good at swimming and the written tests, which I did horrible on.

Her blonde hair twinkles in the sharp light above. She blows a subtle kiss to one of her friends in the stands. As she approaches Maxwell, she rises up to the middle of his biceps but no higher. I guess there is no peak physical condition in order to be in the Imperial Guard.

As soon as Dalia takes her place, Lee continues on with the next recruit. "Number eight, Edmund Callahan."

Somehow, I've been able to hold it together and stay calm. I know that my freedom is in peril and will be seized from me within the next ten minutes, but this is a big moment for all these kids being ranked. It may not be me walking up to that stage, yet I understand the hard work put in so that they could be here. I want to be here when CJ is ranked, whenever that might be, and I want to see Hal become Sergeant. It's the least I could do after all they have done for me.

I'll let the emotions come when it's all said and done. For now, I'm going to support my friends.

Number eight, Edmund, appears in my recent memories, but it's all kind of hazy. He has crossed my eyes before, and he has seen me too. I just don't know where I first encountered him. Unlike Maxwell, the muscles of his arms are squeezed against the sleeve of his button-up, as if the Imperial Guard couldn't give him something that actually fit. His body is not freakishly colossal, like a tank, but he certainly outweighs most.

Lee is startled once Edmund stands beside tiny Dalia. He reverts his attention to the next name on the card in front of him. "Number seven, Shanelle Frey."

Hal, seated on my left, reaches across me and slaps CJ on the shoulder. In retaliation, he turns to him with a smirk on his face. I must be in the middle of something.

I look at CJ as he slumps back in his seat, still peering at Hal. "What, do you like her or something?"

"Yes, he does," Hal blurts out.

CJ groans. "No, I don't!" He folds his arms across his chest and stares at the floor.

Hal lightly taps me with the back of his hand, shaking his head at the kid in shambles beside me. "Don't let him lie to you. He's told me, over and over, that he's going for it after the ranking. I'm not going to argue with him."

Shanelle is illuminated as she rises onto the stage next to Sergeant Lee. Her elegant, jade hair cascades down her shoulders as she receives her pin from Corporal Porter moments later. She has a thin, graceful face with a certain flare to it that is almost enticing. I can see why CJ might have a crush on her.

"Number six, Charles Martin."

The cheerful expression that is normally patterned on CJ's face shrinks from existence. He looks at me, studying my reaction to his name being called. No words can find the strength to escape his lips. All that comes is the swiveling of his head as he reaches for me. The palm of his hand taps me on the shoulder three times before he rises to his feet. He won't dare tear his eyes off of me.

"CJ, please don't leave me. Please." I extend my arm as he drifts away with a frown. When he makes it to the aisle, he finally turns away and staggers toward the stage. I watch him pace in segments, and everything begins to fall apart.

I duck my head into my hands and fold myself over my lap. My best friend is now gone. Besides for Hal, who has his status as Sergeant to worry about, I am alone. I'm forced to sit back and observe as the top ten, including three of the people I trusted during my time here, is ranked and I am left in the dust. Moments later, I'll be stolen from the scene and taken upstairs, where I'll be debriefed before my execution.

It was all a test, they would tell me. The OLC was never a thing until three weeks ago when the Colonel threw it out there. They used me as a guinea pig to see if such a situation would be possible, and they would conclude that no, it isn't. A teenager guilty of a multitude of crimes could never translate into the Imperial Guard no matter what they have to offer. Nothing I ever experienced was real; none of the people I met, none of it. I'm probably sitting in that interrogation chair, watching this all unfold before they kill me.

What a cruel fate this is. My greatest fear until now is losing everything and having no means of getting it all back. I guess that is my issue right now. But as I sit here, letting tears drop down onto my glossy black shoes, I have discovered what I have truly feared most. It is coming so close to achieving success yet never making it, and there are no second chances. At least with my former phobia, I could still go on with my life, starting anew.

But no. My life is over.

I don't know what the sequence of events will be once I'm taken into custody. Will I be able to speak with someone before they kill me if they choose to? If I was given the opportunity to talk to one person prior to my death, who would it be? I have things to say to so many people. So many things left unsettled. What would be my last words to those I am closest with?

To CJ: please don't stop being yourself. Keep reading, and don't let others bring you down for it. No matter what your enemies do to you, remember that you are strong and courageous through life's darkest times. I will never forget your kindness.

To Hal: take care of these kids standing on the stage. They are the future of Oltima and it is your job to lead them. I have no doubt in my mind that you will guide them to power and prosperity. Thank you for taking care of me when I thought I lost it all. You gave me hope.

To Mom: I'm so sorry. I never wanted to end up this way. I wish I could speak to you one last time just to catch up. And to Dad: I miss you so much. I don't where you are, but I know that if you saw me now, you would be disappointed in me. You never wanted me to join the Imperial Guard. I would understand if you hated me.

To Rodney Roarke: I don't know who the hell you are, but fuck you. You are the only reason why I'm here, grieving, contemplating how my life will end at the ripe age of seventeen. You could have stayed in whatever deep hole you crawled out of and not have chosen me, and none of this would have ever happened. Screw your Medo. Never in a million years would I succumb to your bullshit lies, because you made me into something I never dreamed I would be.

To the Colonel: I'm not sure what your intent was, but I'm sorry that I failed you. I never got the chance to meet you and thank you for prolonging my life for at least a few more weeks. But now that I have lived through the ranking, I feel as if your so-called gift has made my peril worse. All the friendships I made are diminished; ones that should have never existed. I'll remember all of them while I am trapped in prison cell. So, in essence, I don't know what to think about you.

To the Manchesters: my gratitude is not enough to describe my appreciation for what you did for me. I know that in the end, it wasn't enough to rank me, but I know that you tried to help me, and I am thankful for that. Most people wouldn't have given half a damn and would have just left me for dead. Captain, I am positive that deep down there is a part of you that cares about me, even if you aren't willing to show it. Celestine, I'm sorry that I promised to come back and I won't. Thank you both for your efforts.

That's it. My heart is full. I'm ready to meet the bullet or feel the concrete against my weathered cheeks.

"Slater! Slater!"

My head shoots up from my hands at the sound of a foreign voice. Hal is inches from my face with the biggest grin as if he stole it from CJ. His sky blue eyes glimmer against the distant light from the stage. I think he just got ranked Sergeant, and I'm in his way. I lean back in my seat and sniffle.

"Dude, you're fifth!"

My heart skips a beat at Hal's statement, which I know must be false. He must be joking. There is no way that I was ranked. Under no circumstances would I be placed higher than CJ. It's a cruel sense of humor he has.

"Slater?" Sergeant Lee pounds into the microphone, ruminating throughout the room. "Slater Tross, are you out there?"

This can't be happening.

I press out of my seat and squeeze out to the aisle. My tears from moments ago have moistened my face, and I'm about to walk up to the stage looking like I was crying. What am I supposed to do, wait until any evidence of my emotion has disappeared? We'd be here all night. I don't even know if I'll be able to step onto the stage in the current state that I'm in. I might lose control again.

Over a thousand pairs of eyes stab me in the back as I stand feet from the Sergeant. The lights glare down the back of my neck, stripping the beads of sweat from my hairline. He holds his hand out to me, and I take it into mine. The only person I may despise more than Luke Bradley is showing me some respect; what a strange world this is.

I draw near Corporal Porter, and she hands me the gold pin that shines valiantly against the stage lights. As I make my way to CJ's side, I examine it's distinct design, resembling a flower with a dark red stone jammed in the center. I'm pretty sure that's a garnet; that's my birthstone.

I never thought I would be beside CJ ever again after he left me. He says nothing, showing some self-control and maturity, but a certain jitter to his frozen stature makes me believe that he has something he wants to say in front of all these other kids. His smile returns once I stop next to him, facing the rest of the crowd. Who would have thought that we would be near in rank?

"Number four, Mai Rea." Mai crams herself through the row I previously sat in and marches toward the stage. Now I'm surrounded by people I know. I don't know if I would have it any other way.

I'm not so sure what just happened. I was just sitting down, crying my eyes out about whether or not I'll get the chance to live, but now here I am. I am ranked, and even ranked in the top ten. Once CJ was called, I thought I was a goner. My life flashed before my eyes, confessing to those I care about. My life is saved. I'll get to see my family and friends again.

Mai receives her pin and paces to her spot next to me. "Congratulations," she whispers, leaning into me. I don't respond, trying not to make a scene as the ceremony commences, but I find it in me to slightly smile.

Sergeant Lee flips to the following card. "Number three, Wyatt Mallory."

Wyatt approaches from the second row, and I find myself in disbelief once again. I can't say anything to CJ or Mai, but I know exactly where I've seen him before. That's the tiny kid I met on the second day. I raced him in the trial run through the woods and he wouldn't tell me his name. He was the only one who came close to Hal in the obstacle course, the one who goes to the all-boys school. I just referred to him as Shorty, but I know better now than to insult my superiors. It's Wyatt.

To my surprise, he is actually a bit taller than Mai as he takes his place aside her. I thought he was the smallest seventeen-year-old I had ever seen. His chestnut brown locks attempt to lay tame over his head instead of in front of his forehead. He fits into the attire the Imperial Guard provided to him, though I don't know if they had to get it custom-tailored or what.

Lee pauses as he examines the next card. "Number two," he stops again, glancing up at the crowd. "Corporal Hal van Lester."

Some muttering falls amongst the other seven recruits accompanying me on the stage. There is no way that Hal isn't the Sergeant. He dominated in every field and had the best times in nearly all the tests. How in the world could Craig have beaten him out? I hope Lee didn't have a say in any of this. Otherwise, the reasoning would be obvious.

I can hardly look at Hal as he reaches for Lee's hand. He is stricken with embarrassment, constantly staring down and not looking anyone in the eyes. I feel incredible sympathy for him. Everything that he has endured from the beginning of the ranking until now is definitely worthy of being ranked as Sergeant. There is nothing he could have done that would have deterred his rank... is there?

"And number one, the Sergeant of Class 30, Sergeant Craig Larsson."

The "Sergeant" parades up to the stage to meet with the only one he takes orders from in the room. I cannot describe the amount of disgrace I am feeling right now. Hal is the rightful Sergeant of this class. What did Craig do to deserve his spot as number one? Nothing that Hal didn't.

Craig stands firmly beside his greatest rival with a snake grin. He knows what he did and how much everyone despises him now. Hal was the one that everyone wanted to become their leader, but now we have a judgemental, self-centered prick taking care of us. God help us all. I hope the rankers know that they made a terrible mistake.

Sergeant Lee tucks the cards away into his pocket and presses his mouth to the microphone. "That concludes the 2030 Imperial Guard ranking. Everyone give a round of applause for the top ten of Class 30." I hear his hands clap through the mike and it amplifies the sound throughout the room.

I watch as the rest of the crowd rises to their feet and applauds us for our great accomplishment. Now would be the time that officers seize me and drag me into the interrogation room to determine how I would die. But no, I'm up on the stage, scanning those who I must lead into the next adventure.

What a ride this has been. Once I got into that fight with Luke, I was made to believe that my life was over and done with. I had no chance to revive my chances from that setback. But I made the best of what I was given and now, I'm ranked. I overcame the odds provided to me and proved a lot of people wrong. Luke and the twins never stood a chance.

I look out into the crowd once more. The first time as an Imperial Guard.